


I'm not running, it's a little different now

by AmbecaWatson



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Castiel, Destiel Smut Brigade, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Top Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-29
Updated: 2016-05-29
Packaged: 2018-07-10 18:01:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6998788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AmbecaWatson/pseuds/AmbecaWatson
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>~Destiel Smut Brigade Bingo~</p><p>Cas initiates some netflix and chill and Dean's fickle attempts at escape won't live past the night.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I'm not running, it's a little different now

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Español available: [I'm not running, it's just a little different now](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14988782) by [SilkyThoughts](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilkyThoughts/pseuds/SilkyThoughts)



>  
> 
>  
> 
> For free space I chose: Massage.

“I don't feel good about this, Sammy,” Dean shook his head. “What if something happens to you while you're out?”

“I'm a big boy, Dean,” Sam replied, sass oozing out of his every pore. “I can fend for myself if the monsters get me.”

Dean flinched. “Don't say monsters. You said you were going to have a drink, not go on a hunt.”

“Seriously, Dean,” Sam lost his very last excuse of patience. “Stop it. You know I won't close my eyes and ears just because I want to go out for once,” and with that, Sam was out the door, gone to drink, gone to flirt, and hopefully not get eaten by monsters.

 

Dean's expression when he went back into the 'living room', or the bedroom in the bunker they had transformed into one with an entertainment set, two couches, and most important of all, had the TV up to netflix.

Cas blinked up sheepishly from the about 90th episode of Doctor Sexy MD. he was watching, pulling himself up into a sitting position and taking his legs off the cushion.

“What's going on?” he tilted his head, his expression one of sheer sympathy so Dean just flung himself down on the couch already occupied by Cas instead of just taking the one that was about five steps further and unoccupied. 

“Sam just went out,” Dean tried to sound like it wasn't a big deal at all, shrugging it off like he knew Sam would want him to.

“And you're uncomfortable with it. Because you're not comfortable here, and would rather be with him?” Cas questioned, displaying his uncanny ability to miss the point although it was right in front of him.

“No, Cas. I'm not comfortable with Sam being on his own, out there. That's all.”

Cas looked at him quizzically as if he still wouldn't believe him, so Dean put on a wide, fake smile, put his feet on the coffee table which would bring Sam up the wall if he was here, and grinned: “I'm great. Relaxed. At peace.”

“That's great,” Cas finally let the point go, sitting down far to close for Dean to be really comfortable, clapping Dean's knee in a gesture that was way too affectionate for a 'hey, bro' moment with: “That's all I want you to be. You said that to me when I came here, remember. The bunker was my haven, instead of heaven. The place where I could finally find peace. I just want the same for you.”

“I never said 'haven',” Dean turned his head a little, staring at the former angel who had still not taken his hand of his knee and even started to absentmindedly rub over the knee cap, making Dean officially uncomfortable. In his pants. 

“But you meant it,” Cas gave back, not letting himself be distracted. He just kept staring until Dean felt like the awkwardness level should be rising, but somehow the eye contact wasn't unsettling at all, at least when he was comparing it to insistent circling of fingers that moved forward to the beginning of his upper thigh above the knee.

“Explain to me, Dean. What's going on?”

“Huh,what? I have no idea what- ?” Dean spluttered out, coughing to regain his coolness and reached out to remove Cas' digits from his body when he spoke again.

“I mean, I get that Dr. Ellen Piccolo had a troubled childhood, but I do not understand why that keeps her from marrying Dr. Sexy. They belong together. They should be happy.”

“Yeah,” Dean chuckled nervously, sitting up straight because if he had to explain the intricacies of Dr. Sexy MD and human courting behaviour in general, he needed to focus and couldn't be slouched on the couch.

Somehow, even when he sat up with his legs crossed, facing Cas and gesturing wildly as he unfolded years worth of obsessive thoughts about this show, the former angel's hand was still on his knee, rubbing and drawing little circles. Dean didn't mind, too wound up in his lecture, and Cas didn't even seem to register that he was still touching him, almost like it was natural or inherent to him for the entire time they watched Dr. Sexy MD and Dean explained it all to him. 

Sometime during the night, when Cas stopped rubbing his upper thigh and actually started cuddling him sleepily, not doing anything but hum whenever Dean suggested going to bed, the hunter got up for about half an hour, taking a very cold shower to regain composure about cuddly Cas and his sudden tactile nature which affected him more than he cared to admit, but it wouldn't help. When he got back into the living room and saw Cas looking at him with expectant eyes expressing that he wished for him to resume his cuddleable position, he had the same level of heat rising in his cheeks 5 minutes after his shower, particularly when Cas's insistent fingers somehow found his way to Dean's still damp hair in the semi darkness, playing with it until it was completely dry and Dean asleep.

When he came to, it was 4 am, his neck was stiff as a board, and he was wide awake and alone. 

“Awesome,” he groaned, rubbing and flexing his neck as he put his robe, inherited by one or other of the men of letters who roamed these halls way back in the day, on and tapped into the kitchen to make some coffee, maybe enjoy the quiet early morning by going out and watching the sun rise or something stupid like that.

His vague plan was brushed aside violently when he flicked the light on in the kitchen and flinched away from the sight of a very much not in bed, very suddenly appearing bleary eyed Cas at his kitchen table.

“Son of a bitch,” Dean's voice grated as he clutched his left arm where he felt a stinging sensation. He was lightheaded and his heart racing from the shock to find himself not alone. “Ou,” he howled next, his neck spasming and definitely cramping because he must have physically flinched instead of just having a reaction based on an adrenaline rush.

“Hello, Dean,” Cas' voice was impossibly deep and somehow hoarse. 

“Why the fuck do you lurk in the dark that way?” Dean asked, rubbing his neck with a vengeance now, trying to work the kink out of the muscle.

“I couldn't sleep, didn't want to disturb you, and I find the darkness of the night soothing.”

“Huh,” Dean breathed out, finally at the coffee machine, sharp pangs of formerly cramped muscle paralysing his back now. “That's weird, man,” he mumbled.

He put a coffee filter into the machine and spooned powder in it, rubbing and cracking his neck, hoping the unpleasant sensation would stop soon, when he realised that there were more than his own five fingers on his back. Talk about weird...

“Dude? What are you doing?”

“You're in pain,” Cas' voice sounded very concentrated, carefully prodding at Dean's back with his fingers to smooth out the muscle, working the hardened parts to knead them back to pliantness and working order. 

“Were you a chiropractor in a former life or something?” Dean's gaze fell on his own hand on the counter, whiteknuckled and he registered himself leaning into the touch of the angel, not even bothering to feel awkward about it because the massage he was getting was feeling hot damn amazing.

“What is 'former life'?”

Dean rolled his eyes, wanting to get annoyed but it made his neck hurt again and so he just let the spirit drizzle out of him and enjoy being treated: “Nevermind, just don't stop doing what you're doing.”

Cas chuckled into his neck darkly, and Dean felt his hair standing up on edge now, Cas' surprisingly limber fingers now causing him goosebumps and shivers while working on the back of his neck.

“Is it good?”

“Hell yeah, right there,” Dean groaned, feeling something other than hands on himself now, but before he could be certain what it was, he heard Sam's voice coming from the hall.

“When I come into the kitchen in a second, you two had better be wearing clothes or so help me.”

“Why wouldn't we be wearing clothes?” Cas rumbled into Dean's neck, and if the hunter wasn't mistaken with more than a hint of cheekines to it, too close to be comfortable now that Sam would be able to see this, so Dean reached behind himself, kneading his own neck now.

“Much better, thanks Cas,” in a way that clearly told the former angel to take a step back. But when Dean turned, Cas was still there, way up in his personal space, tilting his head as if he really wasn't getting why Dean didn't let him work his muscles anymore, something he knew Dean had clearly enjoyed very much before his brother's voice interrupted them. 

“Eh, Cas?” Dean tried to bring up the personal space issue they had going right now, but Sam didn't come in, just rushed by the door and if Dean wasn't mistaken the samsquatch was chuckling viciously. 

Cas turned his head, shrugged and put his hands on the front side of Dean's shoulders, pressing his finger tips down and continued his interrupted massage immediately.

Dean couldn't really get the relaxed feeling again because he was now focused on Cas' face, looking focused and if he was completely honest, more than a bit adoring of the human he was touching.

He raised his hands once or twice, wanting to clap his shoulder in final thanks, or push him away, but the only thing he did manage was to lay his hands onto a part of Cas that was very inappropriate to touch between friends.

“Your hands are on my waist,” the former angel actually pointed it out with a soft smile, moving in closer and reaching around Dean again, letting his finger tips trail down the hunter's back in a way that made him break out in even more goosebumps. 

“Yeah,” Dean said flatly, Cas now almost touching his whole body. “I've noticed.”

“Now they're on my hips,” Cas let him know, when he was another inch closer to Dean and with his half befuddled brain, Dean realised that yes, he was right. His hands were on Cas' hips and what was more, they had drawn him in the last inch of the way until he was all pressed up and close, his hands still roaming Dean's back and actually prying open the dressing gown now.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked breathlessly, examining the little specks of light that Cas had retained in his blue irises even after he stopped being an angel.

“I can work better when I'm closer to your skin,” Cas rasped, and Dean felt his breath on his own lips.

“Makes sense,” he nodded, raising an eyebrow when the healing touch of massage got even better by Cas sneaking those fingers under his robe and rubbing circles into his warm and kink free muscles now, still focused on Dean's face instead.

Through his thin t shirt, Dean noticed the heat coming off Cas more than before, and when he assessed the level of his own body temperature, he noticed that too much of it was pooling southward and had been for a pretty long while just like when he'd needed to leap of the couch and take a cold shower which wouldn't be an option now that he stood pressed against a former angel of the lord, with a fucking hard on and there was no way Cas hadn't noticed it and would let him escape a second time. 

Dean tried to shift a little without brushing against Cas more with the precarious state of his shorts, but Cas didn't give him an inch, just laid into his back harder until Dean felt reduced to putty and didn't even mind Cas inching even closer.

He breathed a sigh of relief before he realised what that must have sounded like when he distinctly felt that he wasn't the only one getting overexcited by the situation, because either Cas was just trying to make him mushy and then kill him with the 9 mm he hit in his pants, or he was feeling the same throbbing sensation as Dean did. 

“Dean,” he breathed out, the hunter blinking at him, because he realised that there were fingers on his bare skin now and Cas must have managed to get underneath his shirt as well.

“Cas?” he asked, thumping over Cas' sharp hipbones, seeing the angel lean forward, his lips coming closer, waiting there patiently for Dean to go the last fraction of an inch which he did with a small moan and a push he gave himself, Cas' mouth enticing and warm against him. 

Dean moved his fingers up over Cas' dress shirt, not able to think long enough to stop himself, hitching over erect nipples underneath it, but leaving them be for the time being and just moving up to cup both his hands around the sides of Cas' neck, pulling him in even further and only then he started taking control of the lazy press of their lips against each other. 

“Cas,” he moaned into the kiss, no longer asking a question, but intoning a conviction as he thumped over the former angel's jawline, teasing the tip of his tongue against his lips, joyously aroused when Cas moaned back at him, opening pliantly and letting Dean lick into his mouth with small presses of his tongue, adding suction as well as urging forward to rub against Cas, simply because he was so hard and wanted it so much, his brain seeking nothing but the sweetest pleasure that Cas' company could give him.

“Dean,” Cas almost whispered, a hitch in his breath, making his arousal known. “You should probably do something with the coffee, before it evaporates and the residue burns itself into the glass.”

“Seriously? That's what you worry about now?” Dean said hoarsely, giving Cas a pitying look, carding his fingers through his hair with one hand, pulling the coffee pot off the heating plate with the other, hitting the off switch with a promising: “I don't want coffee anymore,” before hungrily claiming Cas' mouth again, starting to move him, drag him forward, stumble into his own bedroom liplocked and barely managing to press the door shut. 

“I have been wanting you to do this for ages,” Cas let him know, pressing against him and prying off clothes as they moved over to the bed. “Convinced Sam to leave last night... too horny to sleep next to you... taste great...”

“Cas?” Dean mumbled, ripping Cas' shirt open, buttons flying everywhere.

“Yes.”

“Shut up?” Dean mouthed affectionately, almost a question, his lips drawn up into a smirk that had gotten him laid countless times before, prodding open the former angel's belt and ripping down slacks and underwear in one go until it was all a tangled mess at Cas' knees, sending them both tumbling down onto the mattress.

Dean chuckled, shrugging his shorts off much quicker and turning Cas onto his back as he went. 

He looked down at him, pupils all wide blown and hair tousled, his mouth agape as Dean lost his shirt and came crashing back down to him, humping against him and kissing him like he was starving for it. 

“Mmm, Dean,” Cas moaned when their cocks played over each other, Dean taking them into a firm hold, while continuing to rub himself over Cas.

“That's what I like to hear,” he chuckled, thrusting into his fist and gasping into Cas' mouth at the amazing feeling of having a dick rub against his own. 

The former angel didn't display any sort of stamina, coming over Dean's fist in another hot minute and Dean not even minding, just holding onto him throughout his climax.

“I got you,” he soothed, his arm steadying Cas' back as he came apart, clutching to Dean like he was ripped apart by the explosion in his groin. 

Dean's name was the only thing Cas was able to get out for the few minutes more it took for Dean to come, thrusting into his fist, and laying Cas' exploring fingers onto his cock for extra friction. 

But Cas didn't leave it at that, reaching down and massaging Dean's heavy balls like he had just done with his back, watching the hunter come for him with a pleased smile, pulling the man onto himself and right into the sticky mess of both their come on his stomach, kissing him again, lazy and tender this time. 

“You tired, baby?” Dean whispered, but Cas had already gone to sleep in his arms. 

 

When Dean woke up the next time, he was alone again. Cas was nowhere to be seen, but the evidence of the tangled sheets and the dent in the pillow next to him told him that he had not dreamed up their tangle in said sheets. 

The door opened, giving view to a very naked angel, except for at least having thrown on Dean's shorts, which somehow filled Dean with a hot rush of feeling.

“Where were you?” he asked, sitting up expectantly, smiling fondly as Cas came to him once more.

“Bathroom,” Cas quipped, nuzzling Dean from the side, pressing his nose into his cheek once, before pressing little kisses onto Dean's stubbly cheek. “Getting ready.”

“For what?” Dean rasped, reaching around Cas possessively and with newly awakened hunger.

“For penetrative sex. With you. Inside me.”

“You want that, huh?” Dean turned his head, looking at the bedroom expression on Cas' face, clearly showing him just how much he wanted this. 

“Desperately,” Cas' voice grated low, climbing onto Dean's lap, pushing him down with his hands on his shoulder, his tongue in his mouth and Dean just let the passion rush over him.

“You got this?” he asked, pressing a tube of lube into Cas' hand, who just nodded, squirting it out as if he'd done this a thousand times and reached behind himself.

“Dean,” he hissed, his unoccupied hand tangling with Dean's on his chest, his eyes fluttering open wide while Dean waited patiently for Cas to ready himself.

“You done this before, huh?” he mumbled, stroking over Cas' exalted face, barely able to wait for him to be done.

“Yes, thinking about doing this for you all the time,” Cas' eyes screwed shut, his head resting on Dean's collarbone as he moaned around his own prodding fingers. “I have wanted this for so long, Dean,” he trembled, squelching sounds and Dean just couldn't take not seeing what he was doing. He lifted him off himself laying him down and prodded Cas' thighs open, looked at those elegant, tanned fingers disappearing into the former angel over and over.

“Fuck, you're perfect,” Dean breathed out, reaching for the lube and already slicked himself up, not able to stand not touching himself at the sight that greeted him. 

“Dean, wait for me,” Cas panted, getting back up and pulling out three fingers, pressing Dean down again. “I want you.”

“I know you do. C'mere, sweetheart,” Dean stroked a couple more times, holding himself steady as Cas lowered himself onto him sitting above him and closing his eyes when the blunt head of Dean's cock was catching at his rim for a second, but the former angel went slow, taking Dean's dick inch by inch until he was fully seated.

“Dean, sit up with me. I need you closer,” Cas panted, clenching around Dean's length once as the hunter sat up and they scooted up on the bed so Dean rested his back against the headboard, his fingers digging into Cas' hips as he looked up at him with an open-mouthed lusty expression. 

They tangled themselves together as tightly as possible, holding, pressing and steadying where they could, kissing and playing with their tongues while Cas slowly started moving up and down on Dean's cock.

“You feel so perfect, baby,” Dean muttered, the heat and tightness of Cas' ass just right.

“So do you,” Cas moaned, adjusting his legs a little so he could really bounce himself on Dean, moving his hips a little until one thrust finally found what he was aiming for.

“Fuck, baby. That your spot there?” Dean rasped as he noticed the quivering and the ravenous moan, clinging to Cas and angling himself differently so Cas could stimulate his prostate better. 

“Dean, I can't,” Cas thrashed within another minute, not able to hold on for much longer.

“It's alright. Fuck, I'm close as well. Keep movin',” he panted, his hands splayed on Cas' back, helping him ease down onto himself with every thrust, hitting home almost every time now.

“I need you to...,” Cas babbled, kissing Dean open mouthed and dirty, but Dean had got the message, closing his sweaty hand around Cas' bobbing erection, tightening his grip and stroking in time with Cas' movements on him.

“Gonna come, Cas. Gonna...,” he shouted when Cas' semen hit his stomach once more, while he looked absolutely gone as fucking himself on him with abandon, tightening in orgasm and Dean fell and lost it himself in an inarticulate moan into the nook of Cas' neck as he rode his orgasm into him.

“That was...,” he breathed, the scent of his own sweat and Cas' in his nose as he nuzzled his lover and moved his head up to stare at him.

“Prodigious? Extraordinary? Stupendous? Long overdue?”

“I was gonna say 'awesome'...,” Dean chuckled, staring up at Cas in wonder at what happened to them in the course of one night in with netflix. 

“Of course you were,” Cas chuckled, pressing Dean down again until they laid down on the mattress. “May we sleep some more now, Dean?”

“Course. As much as you like, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title of this fic is a verse from Sick Puppies - You're going down 
> 
> I'm not implying that the relationship of Dean and Cas will go down like it's described in the lyrics, it's just a damn epic song ;)


End file.
